Atonement
by teeea
Summary: And perhaps the boy was indeed their only hope against Voldemort, but Harry Potter would not die if Severus could help it.
1. Prologue

**Atonement**

* * *

><p>Finally, Harry's destiny was revealed. Severus strode quickly down the empty, dark corridors of Hogwarts; he'd stayed late in Dumbledore's office. Finally, Dumbledore had confided in him. Now, though, Severus was deeply chocked which was indeed unusual for him, he felt betrayed almost, used. All this time he'd believed he was doing it for Lily. Lily Evans, who he'd loved and lost.<p>

The enormity of his sacrifices for Lily scared him. He had devoted his whole, miserable life to Dumbledore's cause in order to atone for his mistakes, for it was him, Severus Snape, who'd reported the prophecy to Voldemort. It was him, Severus Snape, who could not protect Lily from the Dark Lord. And what had his sacrifices been for? Nothing. Her son was destined to die in the hands of the Dark Lord no matter what he'd done or would do.

Dumbledore's words seemed to echo in the corridors, _"Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?"_

"_For _him_?" _he'd shouted back and casted the silver doe.

No, Severus would always love Lily, but the _boy_.. the boy was his father all over again. Arrogant, ignorant to authority and attention-seeking.

But the eyes… bright green and so familiar. Although Severus tried to convince himself that Lily's son was like his father, even he couldn't deny that when he looked into the boy's eyes, he could see the familiar kindness, determination and compassion shining through.

Severus stopped abruptly and hid in an empty classroom. The darkness and the silence seemed to become, suddenly, much deeper. And suddenly, he could feel a heavy weight in his stomach and his heart pounding much faster. His hands began shaking.

He had loathed the boy, and quite rightly and deserved, the boy detested him. Severus could not bear the thought that Potter's son… that he had been protecting Potter's son so fiercely, so fiercely that now that it was over, he found himself in an empty room, his hand shaking at the loss. The loss of the last remaining living part of Lily, but also, he realised, the boy himself.

He'd been seeing what he'd expected to see, all along. What he had seen as arrogance, he realised, was indeed intelligence inherited from Lily. The same intelligence he'd adored. What he had seen as rule-breaking and a lack of respect was, in fact, braveness and determination in the dawn of his horrible, unstoppable destiny.

Severus placed his hands against the cold window to stop them from shaking and weighted his options. Was Harry really the chosen one? Was he the only one who could defeat Voldemort? Was it necessary for Harry to die in order to beat Voldemort? Could Dumbledore, even this once, be mistaken?

Severus made up his mind. He realised he could not tell apart Lily and Harry, for to him they both presented the same, now. Severus could not tell whether his heart was pounding for Harry only because of his love for Lily. And perhaps the boy was indeed their only hope against Voldemort, but Harry Potter would not die if Severus could help it.


	2. Afterwards

- CHAPTER ONE -

_Afterwards_

* * *

><p>Harry blinked once, twice and found his eyes felt unbearably heavy. It was a huge effort to force them even half open. Stretching his arms, Harry found his muscles stiff and sore. It felt like he'd been lying in the same position for ages. After Voldemort's death, he found that he could sleep a lot. He hadn't realised how tired and close to the edge he had been until it was all over. And now he could barely concentrate on anything. He felt sick, but relieved. Most of the time he wanted to cry and laugh uncontrollably at the same time. And a lot of times didn't know what to do.<p>

He guessed it was around midday since the room was light and he could hear sounds of conversations outside the room. Someone had clearly tried to pull the curtains closed, but the light was creeping in.

The Weasleys, Harry and Hermione had come to the Burrow. Molly had been doing her best to look after all of them, feed them and mend their various battle wounds. It was very different without Fred; everyone was feeling the loss and Harry could only imagine how George must have been feeling. He still joked, but it wasn't the same. But they all knew Fred wouldn't have regretted anything, and that made them even more proud of him.

The Daily Prophet had declared Harry a hero in the wizarding world. Harry didn't care. When Arthur had showed him the paper, he had simply rolled his eyes. He didn't do it alone. He was nothing alone. He had had his friends, Dumbledore and his army, the Order of the Phoenix, Aberforth, Snape…

Harry turned on his back allowing his mind to go back to the dream he'd had. He'd been having them almost every night. They weren't nightmares exactly, but they confused him. In many of the dreams he was going to the forest to Voldemort, ready to die, when Snape appeared among his parents, Remus and Sirius. They were all standing around him, giving him courage and to Harry they were all family. Snape was watching Harry with gentle eyes. The only time Harry had seen the same look on the man's face was when he had poured Snape's memories into the Pensieve and seen him with his mother. It was the same loving softness in the dark eyes. It was weird.

He knew, now, that there had been more to Snape than Harry had ever been prepared to see. He had been on _Harry's_ side, all along. Harry found it hard to believe. Some nights he would lie awake, too preoccupied to sleep, and think back to all the times Snape had been protecting him despite his apparent distaste for Harry. But there was no way he would have guessed. The man had done a perfect job at torturing Harry at every chance. And Harry hadn't even known Snape and his mother had been friends.

Still, the dreams had continued. And still, the dreams didn't help Harry forget the look Snape had given him before he had died. He could only guess what it had meant, and frankly, he couldn't stop himself from guessing.

* * *

><p>Harry got up and went downstairs for lunch. It was well after midday after all and everyone else was up and about minding their business. Molly had prepared fish pie and salad, and she was carrying an apple tart in her hands when she saw Harry coming down.<p>

"Harry dear, will you get us some spoons?" she said.

Harry returned to the table with the spoons. The small kitchen was full of people. Ron and Hermione were sitting next to each other, smiling. Ginny was sitting next to Ron, glancing at Harry before helping herself to some pumpkin juice. Xenophilius and Luna had also come. The man had come to apologise a few weeks ago for almost giving Harry away to the Death Eaters. And after he had gotten the apology off his heart, he'd begun thanking Harry over and over again for saving his daughter.

Luna was next to Harry and she was wearing a bright yellow bow in her hair. "Hello, Harry," said her clear voice.

"Hey, Luna. It's nice to see you," said Harry, really meaning it.

"It is strange, isn't it," she said, looking around with a small smile. "But in a good way."

"Yes, yes it is," answered Harry. One of the strangest, yet the best things was that his scar didn't pain anymore. Harry was finally free. A part of Voldemort's soul wasn't living in him anymore.

"How have you been doing, Harry?"

"Really good," said Harry. "I'm happy, it's just…" Harry glanced at the people around the table, caught Hermione's smiling eyes and left the end of his sentence hanging in the air.

"I know. Strange," said Luna.

"I never got the chance to thank you, Luna. You know, you helped me figure out where the diadem was," said Harry.

"Oh, that was no trouble", said Luna eerily and took a bite of her fish pie.

"Have you seen the others?" asked Harry after a moment.

"I saw Neville. His face looks much better now. He'll be back to his ordinary self in no time," replied Luna.

Harry smiled. He missed all of his friends and he made a mental note to pay Neville and his granny a visit soon.

Later Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting outside in the garden. The late autumn evening was quite chilly and Hermione wrapped her warm coat around her small frame tighter. Harry had found his old Gryffindor scarf in his trunk and was wearing it. High hedges and trees of the orchard surrounded the house in all directions providing protection from curious Muggle eyes. Harry was staring ahead thinking how quiet and peaceful it was. He almost expected a bunch of Death Eaters to appear out of thin air.

"I want to go back to Hogwarts," said Hermione.

"There's hardly any Hogwarts left," said Ron.

"There will always be Hogwarts," said Harry.

"I mean next year. I want to go and finish my last year at Hogwarts," she said.

"Didn't you take enough subjects already?" Ron rolled his eyes. "You always took more than me and Harry. And remember the third year when you used the Time-Turner to go to more classes!"

"It was very useful," Hermione retorted.

"Well, yeah. You and Harry saved Sirius and Buckbeak, but you could have at least told me about it," said Ron.

"I promised not to."

Ron rolled his eyes again but Harry had frozen. _The Time-Turner…._

"Do you still have it, Hermione?" he asked, alarmed.

"I was actually going to return it to McGonagall but yes, I still have it somewhere," she said. "What?" she asked when she noticed Harry's strange expression.

"Nothing. I was just thinking…"

But he was absolutely and utterly out of his mind even thinking about it. The three of them went back to discussing their plans and Harry pushed the thought of the Time-Turner that Hermione still had to the back of his mind.

After they went inside Harry spent some time talking to Ginny and playing chess with Ron in the living room. Ginny was trying to shoot glares at Ron to make him leave her and Harry alone but Ron being his self, he totally missed the signs. After a while Ginny sighed and said she was going to go to bed. Harry finished the game which Ron won. Harry wasn't surprised; his mind wasn't in it and he was feeling dead tired again. They both agreed to go to bed.

He was sharing a room with Ron which reminded him of Hogwarts. Ron was snoring in his bed, his red hair sticking out under the covers that he had pulled all way over his head.

Harry slept deeply most of the night until he woke up sweaty and disgusting. He'd had a dream where he was going back and forth in time, always barely missing Voldemort's killing course by disappearing out of the spell's reach. Harry sat up blinking his eyes. He brushed his hair with nervous fingers and tugged it behind his ears. He'd let his hair grow and but it was messier than ever. And his dreams seemed to be getting weirder.

* * *

><p>In the morning Hermione, Ron, Harry and Ginny went to Diagon Alley. They walked close together, Harry trying to keep his face down but he was continuously stopped by wizards and witches who had recognised him. They all wanted a piece of him, they shook his hand and smacked his back. It seemed as though he was more famous than ever.<p>

Many of the shops were still closed even though the atmosphere in the alley was emancipated. Ollivanders looked completely deserted and Harry wished that the wand-maker would recover soon and open his shop again. After a while they went to The Leaky Cauldron and ordered Butterbeers.

"When do you reckon they'll leave me alone?" spoke Harry with a weak voice.

"Never," said Ron. "You're not only The Boy-Who-Lived, you're The-Boy-Who-Lived-Twice. You're -"

"Harry doesn't want to hear about it," Ginny piped in when it seemed like Ron was going to come up with more nicknames for Harry.

"Sorry, mate," said Ron.

Harry had just finished his beer when Seamus Finnigan rushed in. Wrapped in a thick, black cloak, he looked rather good and seemed to be in good spirits. The last Harry had seen him was at Hogwarts.

"Hey, guys. I heard you were here," he said, slightly out of breath.

"How?" Harry asked.

"They were all saying Harry Potter is here," said Seamus and waved to the general direction of Diagon Alley.

"Of course," said Harry dryly.

"It's good to see you," said Seamus.

"It's good to see you too," said Hermione, and Harry and Ron nodded.

Seamus went to get a drink and when he came back, Harry caught a glimpse of a familiar black hair and eyes on the front page of the Daily Prophet Seamus had rolled up in his cloak pocket. Harry automatically straightened in his seat.

"What's that, Seamus?" he asked.

"Oh. This," he said beaming and placed the paper on the table so that everyone could see. "You haven't heard the news yet, I take it."

"_Snape is innocent_," Hermione read the head line. "_The late head master of Hogwarts, Severus Snape, has been freed of all charges for the alleged murder of Albus Dumbledore. It was revealed after his death that the murder was, in fact, a plot between Snape and Dumbledore_," Hermione continued.

They all looked at each other. Ron raised his eyebrows.

"Can I?" asked Harry and Hermione pushed the paper towards him. He read the article. And as he'd expected, it explained about the cursed ring and Snape being an agent for Dumbledore. Harry had told the Ministry everything he'd seen in Snape's memories, and now the whole wizarding world knew what kind of man Snape had been underneath the mask.

"It's mental, though," said Ron. "He was always so horrible to us."

"Yeah," said Harry. "He was… well, yeah."

The man in the picture looked as thought he might smack their heads any moment for not perfecting a potion and his was face as serious as a stone statue's.

"I'm glad the truth's out, though," said Hermione, looking at Harry sympathetically. The look made him uncomfortable; it was as though Hermione knew what Harry was thinking.

Harry, refraining from saying anything to Hermione when the others were there, stayed silent, but he felt guilty. So very guilty for hating the man all those years. He had to keep stealing glances at the man in the picture, and deep in thought he missed most of the conversation the others were having.

* * *

><p>That night Harry lie on the bed wide awake. He couldn't stop thinking about the Time-Turner and the guilt that killed his insides. Turning to lie on his back, Harry allowed himself to think about the idea that had been forming in his head. Crazy as it was, he couldn't push it away.<p>

He knew he would need to persuade Hermione to give him the Time-Turner. And he knew it was almost an impossible task. He also needed to find some sort of a potion. It was ironic, but he wished he still had Snape's potion book that had helped him in his sixth year. He stayed awake, thinking, planning.

And now, it was one thing to play with the thought, but to actually plan to do it was insane.

Harry must have fallen asleep finally, as in his sleep he saw a dreamy picture of himself lying on the ground in a forest. His neck was stinging and something wet and sticky was pouring down. He felt weak, but all he could do was feel the blood draining from him. He touched the wound and tried to press it with the sleeve of his sweater, but the bleeding didn't stop. Then suddenly, another Harry was by his side and poured a few drops of something from a small bottle on the wound. The bleeding stopped and Harry felt fresh skin starting to grow over the wound.

Harry woke up with a gasp. _The Essesnce of Dittany._ That's it, he thought as his brain put together the pieces of his plan. Only now, convincing Hermione was going to be double as hard.

* * *

><p>The following day Harry was waiting for the right moment to approach Hermione. He was fidgeting nervously during breakfast and lunch. Then after lunch the moment presented itself when Hermione retreated into the spare room she was using. Harry followed, knocked on the door and sneaked in.<p>

"I need to ask you for a favour," he said tentatively.

She sat on the bed, crossing her legs. "What is it?"

Harry decided it was best to just go to the point. "I need the Time-Turner."

Hermione gave him a pointed look. "What for?"

"Well, the thing is… I can't tell you."

"You're going to do something stupid," Hermione said simply.

"No, I won't," said Harry.

"I know you will!" she crossed her arms and looked crossly at Harry.

"I won't!"

"Why do you need it? We are all safe now," she said rather loudly. Harry looked at the door and hoped no one had heard her.

"I need to fix something," said Harry then.

Hermione was quiet for a long while and then she sighed. "I'll think about it."

Harry smiled a little and then looked at her rather guiltily. "I hate to push my luck, but I need something else. The Essesnce of Dittany," he said.

She blinked and arched her brows in surprise. "I don't have it."

"Where is it, then?"

"I don't know. I'm sure it was in my pocket. I enlarged it and I'm sure it was there among other things. I thought we might need some potions for wounds, but it had disappeared after the battle," she said.

"That's weird," said Harry. "Wait…"

"What?"

"It's because I took it!" Harry exclaimed.

Hermione looked confused.

"Well, I _will_ take it. That's it," he beamed.

"Harry, you're not making any sense," she said.

"I just need the Time-Turner now. You don't have the Dittany because I went back in time and took it from you."

"Why will you need it?"

"The Dittany is used to heal wounds…"

Hermione seemed to understand something. "Is it… Is it _him_?"

Harry, again, thinking honesty was the best way said very quietly, "Yeah. How did you know?"

"You look like you're in pain every time someone mentions his name," she said. "And you're going to use the Dittany to… Oh my god…"

"You used the Dittany on me after I was attached in Godric's Hollow, remember?"

"Yes," said Hermione shakily.

"It's got to work."

They stared at each other, Hermione looking chocked and Harry completely serious.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she said after a while and made her way to her trunk. She reached down, opened it and found the small bottle.

She held it out to him. There were only a few drops left in the bottle. Harry took the Dittany and gave her a grateful look.

Harry, back in his and Ron's room, stood shakily, his legs barely keeping him up. He had to be utterly mad for going back there, back to the time when the most horrible things had happened. Nevertheless, he had to do it, had to talk to Snape. He took a deep breath and started tuning the hourglass for the right amount of time.


End file.
